Post by Carbon Kiwi on May 29, 2011 7:27:54 GMT 10
Title: Shadows [4]
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 240
Pairing: Circlecest
Round/Fight: 4/A
Warnings: Implied character death
Summary: “What do you all do when you’re afraid?”
Notes: I've always wondered what would happen when Sandry's stone finally dimmed.
Sandry’s room remained dark but she moderated her breathing, keeping it within the strict and practiced framework of meditation.
“What do you all do when you’re afraid?” she asked her family, all gathered on her bed. She knew in some senses but felt frightened and thought speaking on it might help.
“It depends on what the fear is,” Tris responded.
“I fear dark,” Sandry clarified. The darkness in the room seemed to shift. “And shadows.”
“My mam taught me about shadows when I was a tot,” Briar said softly. He seldom spoke of his family in the slums—he hadn’t known them long. “She told me that dreams and nightmares both come from shadows—sleep, I think she meant—and that I couldn’t shun the nightmares of shadows without also shunning the dreams.”
“I like that.” Daja’s voice was low. “I was taught shadows were old family members come to check on us.”
“I like that too,” Briar replied. “Mam would’ve.”
“I was just taught shadows were the antithesis of light,” Tris declared. “Dull. But a nurse once told me to be grateful to darkness because it allowed me to appreciate light. That’s like Briar’s, I suppose: can’t have one without the other.”
Sandry cradled her lightless stone and stroked it with her fingers. “I like those shadows. I would like shadows to be that, rather than bringing to mind poxes and Pirisi. Poor Pirisi.”
“Poor Pirisi,” the others reiterated.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 240
Pairing: Circlecest
Round/Fight: 4/A
Warnings: Implied character death
Summary: “What do you all do when you’re afraid?”
Notes: I've always wondered what would happen when Sandry's stone finally dimmed.
Sandry’s room remained dark but she moderated her breathing, keeping it within the strict and practiced framework of meditation.
“What do you all do when you’re afraid?” she asked her family, all gathered on her bed. She knew in some senses but felt frightened and thought speaking on it might help.
“It depends on what the fear is,” Tris responded.
“I fear dark,” Sandry clarified. The darkness in the room seemed to shift. “And shadows.”
“My mam taught me about shadows when I was a tot,” Briar said softly. He seldom spoke of his family in the slums—he hadn’t known them long. “She told me that dreams and nightmares both come from shadows—sleep, I think she meant—and that I couldn’t shun the nightmares of shadows without also shunning the dreams.”
“I like that.” Daja’s voice was low. “I was taught shadows were old family members come to check on us.”
“I like that too,” Briar replied. “Mam would’ve.”
“I was just taught shadows were the antithesis of light,” Tris declared. “Dull. But a nurse once told me to be grateful to darkness because it allowed me to appreciate light. That’s like Briar’s, I suppose: can’t have one without the other.”
Sandry cradled her lightless stone and stroked it with her fingers. “I like those shadows. I would like shadows to be that, rather than bringing to mind poxes and Pirisi. Poor Pirisi.”
“Poor Pirisi,” the others reiterated.